


Life Itself

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: More Hotch Content 2020 [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Day 4, Day Four, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, More Hotch Content 2020, More Hotch Content 2020 Day 4, More Hotch Content 2020 Day Four, One Shot, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Prompt: Family Drama, Short One Shot, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Song: Life Itself (Glass Animals)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: After Hotch fails to get through to Jack, they both go to visit Haley.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner & Jack Hotchner, past Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner - Relationship
Series: More Hotch Content 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024732
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Life Itself

**Author's Note:**

> The song lyrics apply more to Hotch and his dad than Hotch and Jack.

_“Daddy was dumb, said that I'd be something special._

_Brought me up tough but I was a gentle human._

_Said that he loved each of my two million freckles._

_When I grew up, was gonna be a superstar,”_

\- “Life Itself,” _Glass Animals_

* * *

Hotch was thirty-three years old when Jack was born, and Haley had just turned thirty-one. Kids were always part of the plan when he and Haley got married, but things kept getting in the way. First it was Hotch being in law school for so long, and how he stressed to Haley that having a kid now would be too much of a financial burden. Then it was Hotch’s career change into the BAU, his position to precarious to hope for having a child.

This was when Haley’s father started to resent Hotch for wasting so much precious time for having grandchildren. It didn’t help that when Hotch and Haley did decide to have children, their first two tries were unsuccessful. The doctors had warned them that they might have to find alternate methods because of Haley’s age, but then they had Jack, and he was perfect.

The plan had never been to just have one. Haley had a sister, Hotch had a brother. They were both happy with having one of either, but they knew they didn’t want Jack to be lonely. But again, things just kept coming up. One too many family annihilator cases too close together. Then Gideon left, and he and Haley just weren’t getting along anymore.

In the end, the divorce was not a surprise. What was a surprise was how Haley did it, and the fact that Hotch was sure that she was cheating on him. Too many times her phone would ring and she’d step out of the room. Hotch knew the signs of her guilty conscience, not just because of his career, but for how long they’ve known each other. It had to have been a lover, or the divorce lawyer, and Hotch was inclined to assume the worst.

Hotch did not blame his divorce on the job. He blamed it on himself.

Hotch did not blame the Reaper on his job. He blamed it on himself.

Hotch did not blame George Foyet for murdering his wife. He blamed it on himself.

So, when Jack was left with one parent instead of two, Hotch felt sure that he was going to fail him. It was like Hotch was doomed from the start when it came to parenthood. His father abused him, and that was all he knew. He unlearned it all because he didn’t want to continue that cycle, but it didn’t matter. As soon as Hotch beat a man to death with his own hands, he knew his son would never have a normal life.

When Jack finally said that he hated him, it did not come as a surprise, and Hotch did not blame his son. Jack didn’t even say it with anger. Instead, he sobbed it, sitting on the floor, face in his hands, breathless and choking as he cried, “I hate you! I want Mommy!”

Frozen in the doorway, Hotch wasn’t sure if he should try to comfort his son or if he should leave him to cry it all out. Hotch did not cry, even though he wanted to. He was too empty inside to cry. Instead, he hovered, hands outstretched, too unsure to close the gap between himself and his son.

With great hiccupping sobs, Jack repeated over and over, “I want Mommy, I want Mommy!”

“I know,” Hotch muttered, his throat hoarse. “I know you do. I wish she was here, too.”

Everything he said fell on deaf ears, no matter what he could have said because it never would have been enough. He tortured himself watching how red Jack’s face got, how wet from his tears, before he finally pulled himself away. His feet carried him to the living room and his cellphone was in his hands before he realized what he was doing.

Somehow, Hotch managed to dial up Rossi because he didn’t know who else to call. Belatedly, he thought about ringing Jessica instead, but she did so much for their family already that Hotch didn’t want to burden her with Jack now while he was so inconsolable. In lieu of hello, Rossi answered on the third ring with a perfunctory, “Do we have a case?”

“No,” Hotch choked out. There was something wet on his face, and when he touched his cheeks, he found tears.

Rossi was silent for only a moment before he asked, “Is that…crying in the background? Aaron, is everything okay?”

“N-no,” Hotch repeated. By now, his tears were freely flowing in earnest down his face, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“What do you need?”

“I, I don’t know, can you just come over, please?”

“Give me thirty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Hotch sighed before it broke off into a sob and he quickly hung up. He had thirty minutes to cry himself out before Rossi got here, so he collapsed on the couch and buried his face in one of the throw pillows.

It was only twenty minutes later when Rossi let himself into the house using the spare key that he always carried with him. Hotch’s chest ached from the force of his sobs, and he was keenly aware that Jack had not stopped his sobbing either. Hotch only lifted his head when he felt Rossi’s hand touch his shoulder. “Son,” he started and then trailed off, dithering in the living room.

“Go to Jack, please, I’ll be fine,” Hotch insisted, furiously rubbing the back of his wrist over his snotty nose.

For once, Rossi did as he asked, and Hotch pulled himself into the kitchen so he could scrub his face in the sink. His limbs felt like Jell-O, and his blood felt like ice, and he felt worse than he did with nine stab wounds in his abdomen somehow. Hotch did not leave the sink until he was gasping from the coolness of the water. Only then did he force his feet to lead him to wait in the hallway outside of Jack’s bedroom, listening in on Rossi speak quietly to a hiccupping Jack.

“Jack, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Rossi tried to reason with him. It sounded like he’d been doing it for a while, but Rossi was always patient when it came to interrogations. He kept his voice soft with Jack the whole time.

“No,” Jack snapped impetuously. “I don’t wanna talk to you! I wanna talk to Mommy!”

“Your mother isn’t here, Jack. I’m here and your dad’s here. If you really want, we can call Penny, Emmy, JJ, anyone else, take your pick.”

“Mommy!”

Sighing, Rossi explained, “Jack, if you want to talk to your mommy, I can take you to see where she is, but…she can’t help you right now. Is there something wrong? You can tell me or your dad, we can fix it.”

“No! I just want Mommy!”

“Okay, Jack. Let’s go see Mommy. Get your coat and shoes.”

When Rossi stepped out in the hallway, his face betrayed nothing. Hotch leaned against the wall, the only way he was able to remain standing. “I heard what you told him. Do you think this will help?”

Despite all of their experience with the families of murder victims, they didn’t know what to do. How can one teach a child what death is? Before Rossi could offer Hotch any comfort, Jack stepped out in the hallway with his face blotchy, but otherwise dry of tears. His shoes were on the wrong feet, but he managed to zip up his jacket with no problem. “Let’s go see Mommy.”

“Hold on, buddy,” Hotch knelt to the floor. “Let’s fix your shoes first and then we can go see her.”

* * *

The ride to the cemetery was quiet. Rossi drove them in Hotch’s car, since Hotch too distraught to manage that. Hotch’s attention slipped back and forth between checking the side mirror for the view of Jack in his seat or looking out of the window, lost in thought and grief.

Despite his crying fit earlier, Jack was much calmer now, though still obviously unhappy. He did not outwardly react when they drove into the cemetery, and he did not fight Hotch when he unbuckled him from his booster seat. Jack even went so far as to hold Hotch’s hand as Hotch led them to Haley’s tombstone. They paused in front of it, and Hotch noted with a sort of clinical detachment that grass had started to grow over the bare dirt. Rossi had decided to wait in the car.

“This is where Mommy is?” Jack asked, though he did not sound confused.

“She’s really in heaven,” Hotch attempted to explain, “but this is where we buried her.”

Dropping Hotch’s hand, Jack stepped forward over the grave until he reached the tombstone. His fingers traced the letters. “H-A-L-E-Y,” he read aloud, fingertips skating over the stone, “H-O-T-C-H-N-E-R. Hotchner.”

“The first part was Mommy’s name. Her name was Haley.” Hotch sunk down on the bench, elbows resting on his thighs as his body bowed forward. “If you want to talk, Mommy can hear you. She won’t say anything, but it’ll help you to talk about it, Jack.”

Jack looked back at his father over his shoulder before he faced the grave again. At first, Hotch didn’t think Jack was going to say anything as long as he was sitting there, but then Jack started to speak. “I miss you, Mommy. I wish you were.” He sounded so calm as he continued, “I hate Daddy’s mac and cheese. And I miss your stories.”

Hotch felt fresh tears well up in his eyes as he listened to Jack chatter away. His son told Haley everything, held nothing back, and Hotch learned so much more about Jack from this than he knew in months of being with him. After telling Haley about school and about his days with Jessica and Grandpa Brooks, Jack started to wind down. “I miss you, Mommy.” He had said that at least five times now. “I love you. I’ll come see you again soon.” Jack blew her a kiss and then stepped away towards Hotch.

Before Hotch could stand and lead them to the car, Jack pulled himself on top of his lap. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Daddy.” His arms attempted to wrap around Hotch’s neck, his body stretching to reach.

“It’s okay, Jack,” Hotch soothed, his hand spanning across his son’s narrow shoulders. “I know that you’re hurting right now, but Daddy’s hurting, too. We can see Mommy once a week if you want, but you also need to tell Daddy what you need, too, okay?” To himself, Hotch decided that Jack needed a therapist. At first, he hedged on that decision, thinking it would be too soon, but after today, he knew that Jack needed it; and he probably needed it, too.

Jack’s eyes looked wiser beyond their years as he met Hotch’s gaze. “Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too, buddy. Let’s go home.”


End file.
